


Young Governments

by zoomzoom



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bombs, Canon-Typical Violence, I Don't Even Know, I'm in love with Melinda May so I added her for no reason, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoomzoom/pseuds/zoomzoom
Summary: Before Phil Coulson became the leader of the shadow world government, he was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on vacation at a Captain America convention.Before Mycroft Holmes was the British Government he was an intelligence agent sent to handle a bomb threat at a convention.





	Young Governments

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask why there's a Captain America convention in Britain

Phil stared at the words on his collarbone in the mirror, the first words his soulmate would say to him, and the beautiful calligraphy of " _Who are you supposed to be?_ " stared back.

Even after so long, several years past the age most met their soulmates, he was still a hopeless romantic. He couldn't wait to meet that special someone, to have an instant connection they could cherish for the rest of their loves, to sweep whoever it was off their feet-or get sweep off his, he wasn't picky.

He spent a few more moments pondering love and the meaning of life while struggling with his zipper before giving up and calling for May to help him.

 "I thought onsies had the zipper in the front, you know, to avoid this problem?" She looked him up and down, taking in the middle aged man in nothing but boxers and a half zipped, and surprisingly high quality, Captain America costume.

Phil sighed, "It's not a onsie, May. We've been over this. It's an armored bodysuit." They'd had this discussion many times on the way to the convention, but May still teased him. He doubted she'd ever stop; it was how she showed affection. "Besides," he continued, "we both know I wouldn't be able to zip a onsie up without your help anyways. I'm basically a baby."

The corners of May's mouth quirked up, which was basically a full faced grin for her, and she helped her friend get dressed.

Soon, Phil was dressed in bodysuit, mask, and boots and was reaching for the door.

"You're not actually leaving without the shield, are you?" The shear incredulity in May's voice made him stop long before her words caught up with him.

"I could've sworn I left it in the car." He raised his eyebrows and took the replica from her outstretched hand.

 "You couldn't stop hugging it in your sleep last night. I had to carry you and it into the room."

 There was nothing in the world as beautiful as Melinda May's softened eyes and caring smile.

~~~

Mycroft nodded and took the mission papers from the general before exiting her office. Reports stated there was to be a bomb at a local fan convention, a Captain America convention his heart _oh so helpfully_ reminded him.

Not that it would affect the mission. The messy scrawl of " _Captain America!_ " wouldn't come between him and saving lives. Everything would play out according to mission statement, any possible soulmates would have to wait until the bomb was dealt with and the criminals apprehended.

Afterwards though, if he wasn't immediately called back for another mission or more paperwork, then maybe. Maybe he could stick around. Maybe he could find a special someone. Maybe they'd have the magical connection people spoke of.

But the mission came first.

Two minutes and 37 seconds later a team was piled into the black car hurtling down the highway.

The plan was simple; blend with the crowd and search until one of them found the bomb, then some of them would converge on that location to diffuse the bomb and attack the terrorists while the others evacuated civilians and stopped the bombers from escaping via the exits. Mycroft would be among the group attempting to stop the bomb. It was an easy job, one that he'd done before, one that he'd most likely do again.

Mingling with the crowd was easy, but then again, Mycroft had always been good at pretending to be someone he wasn't. It was no different from the days at work where he had to go along with his superiors' idiotic wishes. He couldn't fight these people, because that would cause a scene. He couldn't call them stupid, even if he did know more about the subject than them-of course he knew so much, he had to impress his soulmate-because that would cause a scene.

13 minutes and 52 seconds later his back was braced against a doorway, gun drawn, ready to begin the assault the moment the rest of the team arrived. The two terrorists who had let slip the location of their cohorts and the bomb had been apprehended. Everything was going according to plan.

What was not according to plan was for two bodies to crash through the door he had been guarding, closely followed by an extremely angry woman in a black leather jacket.

Taking the the symbols on the two men's jackets, and lack thereof on the woman fighting them, Mycroft was quickly able to ascertain that she was at least not one of the bombers. He was running out of time, and the fight may have caused them to start the timer early, so he raised his gun and entered the room without the planned backup.

Inside, bodies littered the floor, unconscious individuals marked with badges claiming them as members of the group behind the bomb. However, Mycroft's attention was captured by the beautiful man standing amidst the chaos. He was standing on the last conscious terrorist-not counting the two the woman outside was obviously enjoying toying with-a foot on his chest to hold him down and a foot on his wrist to stop him from using the knife clutched in his hand. The man held a gun pointed at the terrorist's head as he questioned him.

 "Now that the nastiness is taken care of," the man had a light, pleasant voice, "why don't you tell me who that bomb was for? For some reason your friends wouldn't tell me."

When Mycroft went to check on the bomb, it simply was because he needed to check to see if it was active. It had nothing to do with the fact that the man's smile made his heart melt. He didn't even know what it felt like to have your heart melt.

Mycroft stayed very focused on the bomb, barely noticing when the woman in the leather jacket got bored and ended the fight, and he definitely didn't notice the careful way the man's voice kept its comforting lull as he interrogated the bomber.

He informed the team that it was over and the threat had passed as the man shot the one he had been questioning in the chest, causing him to fall unconscious like the rest of the terrorists. The man's gun must have been filled with tranquilizers.

As Mycroft's team filed in to take away the criminals, he turned to the man and asked, quite a bit nicer than he intended, "Who are you supposed to be?"

It was important to know whether the man posed a threat the queen and country. He may have helped with the bomb, but who knew how they'd meet next?

It was a reasonable question, but the man looked so affronted.

~~~

Phil had been having a good day. He'd gotten to geek out with others who shared his appreciation for Captain America. He'd gotten plenty of compliments on his costume. He'd even won the costume contest. Even when the bombers showed up he'd felt great, because he basically got to be the legendary captain.

Then the most elegant man he'd ever seen had shown up and proceeded to question his cosplay skills. This was most certainly not how he was supposed to meet his soulmate. It was supposed to be romantic, perhaps when he met a new team member, not at a convention being questioned by someone who couldn't even be bothered to dress up.

How dare this pompous asshole question his cosplay? Sure, he wasn't wearing the mask at the moment, but he'd still won the costume contest! And this jerk wanted to ask who he was supposed to be?

"Captain America!" Phil practically screeched. He was livid.

May snickered.


End file.
